


Close Your Eyes and Make A Wish

by VulpixSinistre



Category: H.I.V.E. Series - Mark Walden
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Post-Hive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28704225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpixSinistre/pseuds/VulpixSinistre
Summary: A few years after graduating, Otto and Laura celebrate his birthday.Birthday Ottra fic, as requested by bookaddictedwhore!
Relationships: Laura Brand/Otto Malpense
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	Close Your Eyes and Make A Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the Otto/Laura fic! I hope you like it! :)

Otto Malpense settled into the blue floral print upholstery of the kitchen bench and stirred his tea slowly, letting the spoon clink along the side of the cup. He lost himself in the view of the Scottish countryside right outside the bay window instead of pondering the plans for his new laser weapon, but that was alright. He’d been allowing himself more and more time to relax these last few years; he deserved it, after all. 

He didn’t hear Laura enter at first, until she called out a gentle ‘hellooooo’ from the other side of the room. He turned his attention to her with a broad smile. 

“You aren’t wearing the hat,” she playfully scolded. 

“My mistake.” Otto slid the purple foil party hat back on, wincing as the elastic snapped against his chin. “Better?”

Laura grinned over her shoulder, “Much,” and busied herself with gathering up napkins and utensils. He watched her, elbow on the table and hand propping up his head, as she rummaged through their mismatched kitchen. They had moved in together a year or so after graduating from H.I.V.E. only a few minutes away from her childhood home, and their method of decorating could be best described as ‘taking turns.’ Laura would pick out a piece of furniture, Otto would choose the next appliance, and so on and so forth. The result was best observed in their little kitchen, with its stainless steel refrigerator, white microwave, dark oak cabinets, and bright walnut table. A blend of them both. Or, as Shelby referred to it, an uncoordinated design nightmare. 

“How does it feel to be 25?” Laura called over while removing a covered tray from the pantry. 

Otto tapped his spoon one last time before raising the cup to his lips. “Feels a lot like being 24, to be honest.”

“Remind me again what that was like.”

“About the same as being 23.”

They chuckled together as the cuckoo clock previously belonging to Laura’s grandmother ticked and tocked on the pale green wall above them. Out of the few places Otto had felt at home at, this was the homiest. 

“Ta-da!” Laura took her seat in the barstool across from him and set the cake down.  _ Happy Birthday Otto!  _ it proclaimed, along with big candles in the shape of a 2 and 5. He swiped his finger down the side and licked the sweet icing off. 

“Chocolate, delicious.” 

“It’s from the new bakery down the road,” she said, striking a match to light the candles. “I think I’m more excited to try it than you are!”

Otto closed his eyes, using his ability to dim the lights so the glow of the candles illuminated their little table. 

“Make a wish,” she whispered. 

He whispered back, “What about the birthday song?”

“Come on now, really? I don’t… I don’t know…” 

Otto could practically hear her blushing. He popped one eye open. “But I want to hear you sing.” 

“Oh, stop that! Happy birthday, alright? Make a wish already.” She covered her face with her hands, peeking out from between her fingers to see if he would comply. 

He hummed, closed both eyes again, and thought. There wasn’t much he could wish for, really, when everything he wanted was right here in front of him. He reached across the tabletop, hand outstretched, and felt her hand run across his and clasp his wrist. He took a deep breath and blew the candles out while she cheered. The lights flicked back on and he opened his eyes. 

“What did you wish for?” 

“You know the rules.” He cut them each a generous slice, making hers the slightest bit bigger. “Can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

“Boo.”

They chatted and giggled while they ate, keeping the conversation away from work (as much as these two could, at least). The cake, they decided, was exquisite, and they swore to purchase another for every celebration or holiday. They swapped stories of birthdays past, Laura’s being much longer and entertaining than his. And yes, it may have been mentioned that they should go back to the military base Laura had hacked - the event that had earned her a place at H.I.V.E. - and hack it again as a bit of vengeful fun, but dessert was relatively normal otherwise.

“This reminds me of that time at H.I.V.E. when you and Shelby stole all those cookies for my birthday,” Otto reminisced.

Laura pointed her fork straight at him. “The stealing was all Shelby, I traded for mine fair and square. She must’ve snuck into the kitchen from the vents.” She shook her head. “Well, at least she was putting our lessons to use.”

“And then we ate them in the library,” he continued with a grin, “and Wing was upset-”

“-because he didn’t want us to get the books messy!”

When every last crumb was gone, Laura piled up the plates and utensils to carry them to the sink.

“Here, let me.” Otto reached for the stack, but she playfully swatted his hands away.

“No! It’s your birthday, I can take care of it.” She rose from the table, holding the dishes, and he followed suit, gliding his hands underneath hers. 

“We’ll do dishes together, then, how about that?” 

She blushed again, almost as red as her hair, and nodded.

Laura washed, Otto dried and put away. They turned on the little battery powered radio resting on the windowsill and sang along, getting louder and louder as the songs went on. Laura bounced around at the sink, swishing her hips and flinging her hair. Otto danced from cabinet to cabinet, making his moves more exaggerated until he knelt on the floor to dramatically - and rather poorly - belt out the song’s final high note into a whisk. 

Her laughter was music to his ears. 

_ What more is there to wish for than this?  _ he thought again.

One last cup, dried and placed neatly in its spot. The dish towel tossed aside, Otto pulled her in for a kiss. She tossed her arms around his neck and kissed him back eagerly. And again, and again.

“Happy birthday,” she said softly, once they had pulled apart and stood with their foreheads resting together. “Did you have a nice day?”

“Of course I did.”


End file.
